


Perfect Illusion

by blakefancier



Series: Young Lovers [59]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-10 23:36:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12310257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: Steve's worried he can't die and Howard get reacquainted with his Glock.





	Perfect Illusion

**Author's Note:**

> It's been awhile. My apologies.

Perfect Illusion

"Are you afraid?" Steve asked, kneeling naked on the bed, gazing at Howard as if the wrong answer would be enough to tumble his life into chaos. Maybe it would; it had only been a few days since Schmidt came back from the dead. "Of Schmidt."

Howard smiled at him from across the room, hanging up his suit so he wouldn’t have to deal with Jarvis's judgmental looks. "I know what you meant, babe. And no, I'm not afraid." He'd have to look for his shoulder holster tomorrow, after Steve had left, and clean his gun. "Are you?"

"You know Schmidt better than I do. Do you think he'll—" Steve bit his bottom lip and looked down at the bed. "Should I worry?" 

"No," he said. He strode over to the bed, naked, and cupped Steve's face. "SHIELD won't let anything happen to you. I won't let anything happen to you." He stroked the corners of Steve's downturned mouth, and then kissed him softly. "I'll put another bullet in his brain if he thinks about touching you." 

"Did you really shoot him in the head?" Steve's frown grew more pronounced. 

"Yes, I did. If I hadn't, he would have killed me." Of that, Howard was sure.

"How does a person survive that?" Steve tensed, suddenly, and then pressed against Howard, trembling. "What if he can't die?"

Howard could tell by the tone of Steve's voice that wasn’t quite the question he wanted to ask. He stroked down Steve's back, like he would a cat, gentling him. "You're not immortal, Steve. You age, you get hurt—there's nothing in SHIELD's tests that say you can't die. Just… maybe you're harder to kill than most baseline humans. That's not a bad thing. Not in my book." 

"I don't want to be alone," Steve whispered softly, pressing his cheek to Howard's shoulder. "I don't want to live without the people I love."

"Steve, hey." Howard pressed a kiss to his temple and hugged him tightly. "That's not going to happen, okay. That's never going to happen. Trust me."

Steve nodded and kissed Howard's neck. "Can we just sleep tonight? I'm really tired."

"Of course." Howard tugged on Steve's hair gently. "I'm never going to leave you." It was a lie, but they both needed lies right now. 

"And I'm never gonna leave you. We're going to die at the same time. When you're a hundred and I'm seventy-five, we're just going to fall asleep and never wake up. They'll find us in bed, curled up around each other, smiling."

"That's a morbid thought." But it was also comforting. Howard patted Steve's ass. "Put on some pajamas and get into bed." 

Steve sniffled and sat back on his heels. "But it's easier this way. If I need some attention in the middle of the night, we don't have to deal with clothes." 

"At least put on some underwear. Please?" Howard shook his head fondly and went to slip into his own pajamas. 

"Oh, all right." Steve climbed out of bed to grab underwear from his bag. "Are we still going to be able to go to the auto show next weekend?"

"As long as you and Tony promise not to ditch your security detail." Howard didn't bother putting on a t-shirt. He slipped into bed, yawning.

"We won't." Steve crawled under the covers and cuddled against Howard. "Wake me up if you have a nightmare, okay?"

Howard closed his eyes. "Mm." 

"Howard." Steve sighed and Howard sighed back.

"I will. I promise." 

"All right." Steve kissed the corner of Howard's mouth and then tucked his head against Howard's shoulder.

***** 

It had been a long time since Howard had carried a concealed weapon but he felt the circumstances warranted it. When he met Schmidt again, and he would, it was not going to be a cheerful reunion. 

He'd sent Steve down for breakfast before he pulled out the lockbox with his gun, which he set on the bed. Then he took out the shoulder holster and put it on. It didn't fit quite as well as it used to, it was tight across his back, but then it had been a good six years since he'd put it on. He'd have to get a new one. 

"Mr. Jarvis said you should come down for breakfast, too."

Howard turned around, his pulse racing as Steve's voice cut through the silence of the room. Steve was leaning against the doorjamb, a small frown on his face. "All right. I'll be right there."

Steve glanced at the box sitting on the bed, then at the shoulder holster. "He made pancakes and bacon."

"Okay." Howard watched as Steve slipped his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunching. "You just gonna stand there?" 

"You are scared," Steve whispered and he looked unsure and afraid because he thought Howard was afraid.

"No." Howard sighed and sat on the bed. A moment later, Steve sat next to him, their arms bumping against each other'. "You know that I like to be prepared for the worst case scenario."

"You think he's gonna come after you specifically." Steve rubbed his hands against the knees of his jeans. 

"Possibly. We didn't end our relationship on good terms." Howard smiled wryly at the understatement. 

"Did you… Were you and he, you know? " Steve shrugged.

Howard grimaced. "God, no. He made it very clear what he thought of me. And of Nick. With lots of awful terms that I won't repeat."

"But you wanted his help." 

Howard shrugged his shoulder. "You know I can be a bit unscrupulous at times. It's the same with Nick and Peggy. When you're trying to save the world, sometimes you have to do things you don't like." 

Steve snorted. "That's bullshit and you know it. That's why you left SHIELD." 

It wasn't, not really. He'd been tired of wading in blood. But Steve thought he was better than he actually was. "Regardless." 

"I don't like guns."

And yet Steve was fascinated by the military; the kid was a study in contradictions. "I know. And I don’t like assholes threatening the people I love. Come on, let's go down to breakfast. I'm hungry. I know you are, too." 

Steve looked like he wanted to talk a bit more, but after a moment, he relented and got to his feet. "Just be careful, Howard." 

"Of course. I need to live to be a hundred, remember. We've got a plan." 

***** 

Peggy paused when she met him out front—because now that Schmidt had resurfaced, he was going to get door-to-door service—and raised her eyebrows. "When did you start carrying again?" 

"Since this morning." Howard got into the car. "Don't you start, too. Steve is acting like I'm going to shoot off my foot." 

Peggy slid into the back seat beside him and gesture for the driver to head out. "Well, it has been awhile." 

"You can fuck off, Carter." 

She laughed at him. "But seriously, when was the last time you handled a weapon that wasn't experimental?" 

Howard rolled his eyes. "It's like riding a bike, but if you're that worried, we can head over to SHIELD after work and you can test me out."

"Not the Stark Industries firing range?"

"SHIELD is closer." Besides, he wanted to show off to all the newbie agents. 

***** 

"So what's with the extra security?" Obi asked, sitting on the corner of Howard's desk while Howard was trying to drink his fourth cup of coffee and look over the contracts for his nine o'clock meeting.

"What extra security?" he asked. 

Obi crossed his arms and stared at Howard. 

Howard sighed; he was going to ask Nick for his security deposit back. "Peggy was concerned with some letters I received in the mail this weekend. They were a bit more than the usual 'die in a fire' rhetoric." 

Obi looked him over closely. "Peggy's not the only one who's worried. I haven't seen you with a concealed weapon in ages. Seriously, you need a new shoulder holster because it isn't helping you conceal shit." 

Howard cursed softly. "Yeah, I'll have Annie go out at lunch and get me a couple to try out."

"Please do, because it's embarrassing." Obi grinned at him.

"Don't you have work to do? What am I paying you for?" 

"Yeah, yeah." Obi patted his cheek. "I'll see you in an hour. Don't forget to look at last year's expense reports, too." 

Howard flipped him off, which made Obi laugh

On the way to the door, Obi stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Is this something I should be worried about, Howard?"

"The report?"

"The gun and the surge in security." Oba frowned. "Should I be worried?" 

Howard was quiet for a moment, then he said, "No. This doesn't have anything to do with Stark Industries. Or my personal life, so you can stop looking at me like that. It's about the consulting for the government." 

"Ah." Obi looked even more worried. 

Howard hadn't told Obi a damn thing about what he'd done for SHIELD. Hiring Peggy aside, he tried really hard to keep Stark Industries away from that part of his life. "It's fine."

"Would you tell me if it wasn't?" Obi asked and when Howard didn't say anything, he nodded. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Be careful; don't get killed." 

"I'll do my best. Now let me finish reading these reports." 

***** 

It was after seven when he got off work and he was exhausted but he didn't protest when Peggy had the driver take them to SHIELD. Tired or not, he needed to get some practice in—they both knew it. 

"I see you got your holster situation fixed." Peggy grinned at him. "It's all right, Howard. It happens when you sit behind a desk all day. Things start to expand." 

Howard gave her an offended look. "Someone doesn’t want a Christmas bonus this year." 

"Oh, no, Mr. Scrooge, however will Tiny Tim have that life-saving surgery?" She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead.

"You're not funny," he said. 

Peggy snorted and nudged him with her shoulder. "*I* am hilarious." 

***** 

Despite the hour, there were still a few people at the range. Howard adjusted his protective eyewear and earmuffs, then stepped up to one of the empty firing lanes. Peggy stood a few feet away, watching him and he tried not to feel self-conscious. He took out his Glock, racked the slide, then got into position. He lined up his sight and pulled the trigger. 

He grimaced; he'd pulled to the right. 

Howard closed his eyes and took a deep breath, centering himself. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and tried again. 

Better. 

He'd always been a good hand at guns. When he was five, his grandfather had taken him out to shoot at targets and Howard had been a natural. His grandfather had told him that all Starks had a knack for destruction. 

Somewhere between the second and third magazine, the firing range cleared and Howard knew he had a guest. He ignored Nick for the time being and finished his session. 

He put his gun down, took off the earmuffs and eyewear and raised his eyebrows. "Looking for a show?"

"You were always a damn good shot when it came to paper targets, Howard," Nick said and the words hung in the air. 

"I shot Schmidt in the head," he said.

Nick crossed his arms over his chest. "And he's back from the dead?"

"All he means," Peggy said, shooting Nick a hard look, "is that it was dark and it was snowing and you'd never shot a person before." 

"I shot him in the head." Howard gritted his teeth. "I don't know how he survived, but I didn't miss."

"All right." Peggy elbowed Nick, who mumbled his assent. "It's a moot point. What matters is making sure we take him down permanently this time. Agreed?" 

"Agreed," Howard said.

Nick nodded. "Agreed." 

It felt almost like old times. Howard wasn't sure if he liked that or not.


End file.
